


Night and Day

by Morse_s Child (sherlockstummy)



Category: Inspector Morse (TV)
Genre: Multi, biromantic!morse, night and day, observation, otp: yours aye, platonic sleeping arrangements, polyamorous!lewis, they're cute okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 03:37:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4004392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockstummy/pseuds/Morse_s%20Child
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morse and Lewis watch each other sleep and ponder their relationship in their own ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night and Day

_Night_

Morse often goes to sleep late, long after Robbie has drifted off to sleep. Sometimes, Morse is actually tired, but mostly it’s about getting a few scant hours before work the next morning.

Robbie’s habit of being punctual forces him to be punctual, too.

Morse will call Robbie his lover regardless of what they do in bed, which isn’t sexual. He’s fine with that, though; sex, he can get elsewhere. Love is a rare breed.

Tonight, Morse is actually tired, so when he slips beneath the covers and turns off the light, his intention is to sleep. But he is struck by how innocent and soft Robbie looks in the moonlight.

Morse lies on his side facing Robbie, who is curled slightly towards him, clutching the covers in his fist like a child. Robbie does snore, but if anything, the noise is comforting. He would put up with it in any lover, and he would put up with Robbie sleep-talking or worse. Love is so rare, and it’s been rarer still in Morse’s life. He’s lucky, he tells himself this every day. It keeps the loneliness at bay.

Morse reaches out to stroke Lewis’ hair and is surprised by how soft it is. Robbie loves being petted, and he moves closer to Morse in sleep, snuggling in closer. Morse lets him, arms wrapping around him automatically. Robbie snuffles into Morse’s chest before dozing off again. Morse lies still, afraid of disturbing Robbie’s peace with his unrest. 

Robbie has taught him that love means talking, and Robbie knows when to press for details. But instead of using interrogation, Robbie will move closer, clasp his hand, touch skin with teasing lightness, until Morse gives in, and the floodgates give way. 

It usually ends up relieving him.

Morse kisses Robbie’s forehead, and wishes that no frowns with crease his forehead. He wishes a peaceful, beautiful life for his sergeant, with as little tragedy as possible. 

He wishes, selfishly perhaps, that his love could become a protective castle, sheltering Robbie from his pain, and all the pain that can be felt in the world.

He settles for kissing Robbie again, holding him close as he drifts off to sleep.

_Day_

Robbie wakes up well-rested. Usually, he sleeps deeply, even when Morse stays up late. He realizes that he must’ve cuddled close to Morse in sleep. They are curled around each other, his superior’s grip much slackened in rest.

Robbie extricates himself from Morse’s grasp carefully. In the early morning light, Morse looks peaceful, and even happy. Good. He deserved a pleasant dream every once in a while. 

Robbie sits up on his elbow and presses a kiss to Morse’s forehead. No, not awake yet. Morse barely stirs, except to stretch. Getting there, then. Robbie knows Morse is not a morning person, and will sleep for as long as possible. He also is very reluctant to be loved before coffee, stiff in Robbie’s arms if hugged, cold like a stone.

Morse does, however, love to be kissed.

Robbie climbs out of bed and begins to undress, facing the window. It looks upon Morse’s back garden, and, beyond the tall fence, out into the world beyond. The back garden isn’t much. Its main feature is the beautiful tree that stands tall and sturdy. Robbie loves that tree. It’s where he and Morse find their happiness.

In the midst of buttoning his shirt, Robbie turns to look back at Morse, asleep in the bed. His lover (and Robbie will call him his lover; everything else just feels wrong) is all angles on his best day, and sharp as broken glass on his worst. He’s unused to being loved, and Robbie, with an endless heart and love to spare, is willing to fill that void. 

In sleep, though, Robbie can see the progress being made. Morse parades his reputation and embraces it fully, but at home, in love, he is an entirely different man. And Robbie can see the way his angles have been sanded off by the way he lies, relaxed, at peace.

Robbie checks his watch. Morse has slept long enough. He leans over and kisses Morse again, pressing feather-light kisses across his forehead and cheeks.

Morse groaned, swatting at him. “Robbie…” he grumbled, “you can’t use that as incentive.”

“Why not? It works.” Robbie nuzzled him before straightening up again. “Come on. Get dressed. I’ll make coffee.”

Morse chuckled, rolling over onto his back. “Coffee is something I like a lot right now.”

Robbie laughed. “Can I have a hug, then?”

Morse grinned, rubbing his eyes. “Come here.”

Robbie bent down, and Morse pulled him down towards him.

“Oi! Won’t I crush you?”  
Morse tilted his head up and brushed his lips against Robbie’s. “You are worth being crushed.”

Robbie smiled, kissing back. “Your poetry is going to make me late.”

Morse rolled them over. “Live a little, just this once.”

Robbie laughed and snuggled into Morse’s neck.


End file.
